


Laid Bare

by dragonquesttbh



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angel Erik, Demisexuality, First Ralky and Ferk on the tag boys, Friends to Lovers, Glitter, Just kidding there's no toilet guy, Kinda, Lingerie, Luminary is Depicted as 18, M/M, OR IS IT, Other kissing, Strip Tease, Stripperik!!, Toilet Guy, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism, thigh kissing, what the fuck are these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonquesttbh/pseuds/dragonquesttbh
Summary: It's just a crush. Just a huge, all-consuming crush on that silly, scruffy boy from uni, all rakish grins and ruffled hair.But now he has his thighs around El's neck, his lips on his ear, begging him to take his clothes off, bodies pressed close. It's here, El wonders:is this just a game?STRIPPERIK AU
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Prince Faris/ Derk (Dragon Quest XI), Theo | Chalky/ Rou | Rab (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Laid Bare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NedrynWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NedrynWrites/gifts).



> Happy birthday, dad! I can't believe you're 69! Anyway, this is for you. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I've never been to a strip club. However, as a lady who likes ladies, I've been to _several_ burlesque shows and seen some wonderful strip teases :D… So the outfit and the campy _gasp_ after each item of clothing is all very burlesque (no tassels though #freethenipple)
> 
> For anyone having trouble visualising Erik's outfit, here are some links to the closest I could find: [robe](https://modesens.com/product/christine-designs-bijoux-short-silk-robe-white-3870120/), [shoes](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/473370610829100018/), [French knickers/ shorts](https://rover.ebay.com/rover/0/0/0?mpre=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebay.co.uk%2Fulk%2Fitm%2F371977942265) (white, not pink), [milkmaid blouse thing?](https://www.historicalemporium.com/store/003663.php), [white thong](https://www.victoriassecret.com/vs/panties-catalog/the-lacie-logo-cheeky-panty-5000005394?brand=vs&collectionId=c88a7a53-501d-4649-afa1-1fcdf45977bb&limit=180&productId=35cbc688-856e-431e-9422-c9714194a786&stackId=bdd03957-784a-4d99-b7bf-9daf5d8eb4c8) (technically not a thong but shh), back of [2nd thong](https://www.victoriassecret.com/vs/panties-catalog/very-sexy-embellished-naked-ring-cheekini-panty-1116384800?brand=vs&collectionId=c88a7a53-501d-4649-afa1-1fcdf45977bb&limit=180&productId=8f363dfa-1709-47a9-8aee-085077c2aa44&stackId=bdd03957-784a-4d99-b7bf-9daf5d8eb4c8) (?) <3

"You'll be just fine, laddie, I know it." 

Chalky chuckled, slapping his back with glee, eyes twinkling under the streetlight. "You know, me and your grandad met in one of these places…" 

"Right that's it, I'm going. Love you." He pressed a kiss to both of their cheeks. "Please don't follow me in." 

Rab chuckled warmly. "Wouldn't dream of it, laddie." 

El decisively turned around, strolling up to the heady purple light of _The Salty Stallion_ , towards a burly man clad in pink. He offered the bouncer his ID, eyes swiftly dropping to examine the cracks in the pavement. 

"Tonight's gonna be right up yer street, I reckon," he said, scanning his ID then returning it. "My Sylv, 'e knows just 'ow to put a show on." 

"T-Thanks," he mumbled, blindly shoving his ID back in his wallet, clumsily wedged between the wad of notes Rab had thrust at him. 

It was bad manners to look and not pay, he said.

Not that he was here to do either. 

He would find Jade, his thrill-seeking far too adventurous stripper of a sister, then leave– eyes firmly fixed on the ground. 

He was just an awkward, painfully shy country boy, intimidated by the brash, bright lights of the big city. The shock of moving from his small village to London for university was still jarring, _especially_ with how openly men could be with men. 

A heavy, yet gentle, hand found his shoulder. "No need to be nervous, lad. You'll be surrounded by people just like ya, y'know, who appreciate the wonders of the male physique." He gave his shoulder a firm clap. "So go in there and 'ave fun, awright? Or you'll get Sylv on yer back 'til you smile." 

El nodded politely, tentatively taking his first step forward. 

Only to be ambushed by the blare of Madonna. 

A small smile. This was definitely a gay club. 

He tugged at the sleeve of his black turtleneck, the stifling club overwhelming with the heat of the gathered crowd. 

_We are living in a material world,_

He followed the eyes of the crowd to the stage. Gold. Gold coins strung together as a thong. The toned blond swung around the pole, fingers dancing over the string, about to pull. 

_And I am a material girl._

His eyes darted to the floor, cheeks burning hotter than iron. It was too shiny, showy, _indulgent._ Not his cup of tea at all. And while the dancer was undeniably handsome– limbs moving effortlessly, hips swirling rhythmically– El had to fall for a person entirely before he felt that fiery, magnetic attraction. 

One reserved for a certain boy in his seminar group who always turned up late, in sloppy clothes and an even sloppier grin. El didn't dare wonder what he looked liked under all those baggy clothes– the thought alone more heated than anything occurring on stage. 

A man slipped in next to him, far more enthralled in the show, whooping and cheering, joining in the brays for him to _take it off._

"I bloody love ya, Faris!" he yelled, raising a fistful of money and shoving his way to the stage. 

Faris laughed, counting his money with glee. "I love you all so dearly! My adoring fans. Ha HA!" He leant forward, putting a thigh around the neck of that same man who had stood next to El seconds ago. "Especially you, Derky baby, especially you." He snatched the money with a wink then slinked off stage. 

El searched for the bar, for Jade– but his gaze was pulled back to the stage in an instant. 

A man dressed in an immaculate ring master's suit, dark hair elegantly slicked back, carrying an intoxicating magnetism that El couldn't quite put his finger on.

Greeted by a wave of cheers, he raised a hand, beckoning for yet more applause. "We all know where that money's going…" He leant forward, pressing a hand to his mouth. " _Another_ nude photoshoot?" 

The audience laughed.

"We love you, Sylv!" 

Sylv smiled, leaning back as he pursed his lips. "Oh, ladies and gentlemen, do we have a treat for you. For our next _slut_ of smile… All the way from the frozen North," he shivered dramatically, rubbing his hands over his arms, "here to heat things up, we have our simply _divine_ purse-cutting cutie… _Fatal… Flash!_ " 

The click of heavy shoes. 

The crowd held their breath. 

A gleaming white platform, complete with a fluffy pompom, emerged from the darkness– followed by a smooth calve, then a thigh, clad in a pristine, white fishnet stocking. A gorgeous, slim figure in a silken white robe, and seemingly nothing else, one that hinted at supple curves. His blue hair glowed under the bright, white light, a crude halo bobbing above his head. 

El bit down on his lip. His eyes clamped shut. His chest shook with a heavy breath. This was a wonderful, exhaustion-induced daydream, him planting the man of his dreams onto the face of a stripper. 

"Hey everyone," he hummed, pearly white teeth sticking into a plump lower lip. 

Sliding his robe up to his hips, he reached into his stocking. A sharp knife, trapped under white lace. Sliding it from its lace sheath, he effortlessly twirled the iridescent blade between his fingers, its pearly glow flashing in spotlight. A sharp grin. Sharper metal pulled down his lip. A slow lick. His lips closed around the blade, smirking. 

El released a long withheld breath. Gorgeous. _Dangerous._

"I think I'll be taking that, thank you," Sylv chided, reaching out a hand from offstage. "Behave, you." 

Erik handed over the knife with an eye roll. " _Boring._ " 

Dammit, he was looking again. That voice. Silkier than usual. Captivating as ever. 

He sucked on a finger, shy as he glanced away. "You know, I just _hate_ it when customers think I'll suck their dick in the toilet." He swung his leg around the pole, flashing an alluring grin– and a little thigh. His hand stroked up the metal, fingers poking out of a tight, leather glove. He pouted. "At least take me into the back of your car." 

Laughter erupted through the audience. 

El tensed, heart hammering against ribs so hard that they threatened to break. It _hurt_ to see him up there, strutting around like that, just out of reach. 

Erik. Silly, sweet, stunning Erik from his seminar group: all cheeky smiles and spiked, blue hair, talking about doing _that_ with his lovely mouth. 

About to take his clothes off. 

His body teetered around the pole, swinging ever so slightly, precariously rocking on a single, shining platform. His gaze danced around the room, a ravenous tiger sizing up its prey. "Nice to see the regular crowd's all here… And– oh!" 

He gasped comically, bringing a hand to his gaping mouth. 

El's breath quickened. He couldn't be, surely he wouldn't, not under the lowlight, no, he couldn't be looking– 

He beckoned with a single, enticing finger. 

"C'mere, stranger," he cooed, pressing his cheek to the metal. "Yes _you_ , cutie with the bowl cut." 

The crowd turned to stare. 

El's stomach twisted as he stumbled through the gawping men. 

Erik crouched on the stage, rocking back on his knees. Taking El's chin with one hand, he stroked a prying thumb. "Now, what's a sweetie like you doing in a place like this?"

He gulped. "I'm–" 

_Looking for my sister…_

Anything but– 

No. He was looking at him. 

His gorgeous face. The white glitter shimmering on his cheeks. The slope of his thighs, exposed by that too short robe. 

"What's your name, angel?" 

El swallowed a whimper. 

_Did he really not remember his name?_

He knew _his_ name, unable to stop himself from babbling to whoever would listen about whatever wonderful thing Erik had done today. But he supposed that it made sense, though: he was bright, beautiful Erik, bathing the world in blue wherever he went, dozens of adoring fans. He was El, boring, bland El with brown hair and a crippling shyness. 

Or maybe he did know his name. Maybe he was teasing him, a tiger toying with its prey before delivering the killer bite. Maybe that was worse, that his heart lay in the claws of someone taunting him, someone who would tear it apart without a second thought. 

A simpery giggle. Erik pressed a thumb into his cheek, humming softly. "Aw, you not gonna tell me, angel?" 

"E-El," he mumbled, unable to look at the shimmering vision above him, blinded by his light. 

"Take it off!" came the jeer, echoing across the otherwise silent room. 

"I'm not taking anything off," he purred, thumb sliding up El's cheek. 

The room turned icy cold, the frosty response from the crowd seeping into his bones. He shivered, the searing heat of Erik's hand on his cheek doing nothing to keep out the chill. It _burnt,_ in fact _._

Erik simply smiled, leaning further forwards, robe slipping up to reveal more thigh– a flash of white lace. "Why would _I_ do that when I've got a lovely little volunteer to do it for me?" 

A roar of applause. Several cheers. 

"These gloves are a little tight," he sighed, pulling at the leather, "so I couldn't _possibly_ undo this fiddly bow all by myself." He grasped El's face with both hands, leather pressing into his cheeks. Then glanced down, grinning. "Don't be scared, angel. I don't bite." 

He sank his teeth into his lip, smiling sweetly. 

El's pulse thrummed through his fingertips as they shook around the silken tie, gently pulling the bow loose. 

A murmur in the crowd. "...Poor kid doesn't stand a chance." 

El forced his eyes shut, relying on touch alone to fumble with the rest. He was right, he really didn't stand a chance. The tie came away in his hands. A tie then wrapped around his neck.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it, angel?"

With a pinch of El's cheek, he stood up. In an equally sharp move, the robe dropped to the floor. 

His mouth, dry. 

His eyes fell on the gleaming choker at his throat, slow to trace down his body, relishing in the glowing sight of Erik unwrapped. His collarbone, his shoulders, entirely exposed, an all-too-easily pulled down blouse sitting just below his shoulder blades, the gleam of pierced nipples visible through the thin fabric. His waist, bare, displaying the smooth grooves of his abdomen, adonis lines carved for fingers to be run down. Silken French knickers, tight on his toned waist, loose over his hips, accented with white lace. Far too short to cover him properly, El noted, when Erik turned around and saw that the fabric, though loose and flowing, was being pulled up by a pronounced curve, caught between his cheeks. 

He really did look angelic. 

White fishnet stockings, tight on his toned thighs, accented with yet more lace. 

And to top it off, wings. Ridiculous, sparkly wings, that he had absolutely no right to look sexy in. 

The first line of music. Erik curled around the pole. A familiar beat. 

_Oh, baby, baby._

He dropped on the second, biting a finger as he slowly slid himself back up. Then thumped down again on the third. Rubbed himself against the pole.

_Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know,_

He stepped forward, effortlessly slinking towards the crowd and offering a platformed foot. Rolling his eyes, he smiled sweetly as multiple men scrabbled to undo his shoe. He pressed a palm to his cheek as his shoe was gleefully handed back to him, packed with notes.

_That something wasn't right here?_

He eyed it boredly, chucking it behind him. Offering out his other platform, he grinned as it was similarly filled with cash. Then tossed it aside, as if worthless. 

_Show me, how you want it to be._

This was Erik, _his_ Erik from uni. Erik who'd arrived late to their seminar earlier, grey hoodie covered in pizza grease, eyeliner smudged down his face. Erik who'd stood up for him when that private school kid made fun of his accent, calling him an _entitled posh prick…_ and a whole lot of other colourful words, ones that made El blush. Erik who he boasted to all his friends about. Erik who followed him when he ran out of class, offering him a hug, letting him bury his neck in that same stained hoodie as he crumbled in his arms. Erik who always knew how to calm him down, soothe his anxiety. 

_Tell me, baby, 'cause I need to know now, oh because–_

Erik who was now half dressed, crawling across the stage, making eyes at an unfamiliar man. 

Not him. 

_My loneliness, it's killing me._

Erik sighed as a sea of hands pawed at him, tugging at his clothes, sliding across the smoothness of his skin. 

And El's chest burned, it seared, but he couldn't take his eyes off him. His Erik, no longer his. Not that he ever had been. 

_I must confess, I still believe._

A sly glance in his direction. More than a glance. A blatant look. Brow briefly furrowing, Erik batted the hands away, shifting towards him, away from them, towards _him._

_When I'm not with you I lose my mind._

Erik sat back onto the balls of his feet, grinning as he scrunched at El's hair, sighing dramatically. 

_Give me a sign._

Still his eyes didn't move from his face, not even with the very deliberate stroke of his thigh, the pulling up of his silken shorts. Revealing more. For him. 

Yet he couldn't touch him. Not even. Not even when he was this close. Icarus fell to his doom when he flew too close to the sun, and if he dared touch Erik, he would surely burn **.**

_Hit me baby one more time._

_Slap._

El bit down on his lip. 

The music abruptly stopped. 

Throwing his head back, Erik laughed softly, kneading a hand over the fresh, red mark he'd given himself. 

Then gasped, dropping his hand to play with the bow of his shorts. Innocent. He glanced up at him, suddenly shy. "Sorry, angel, d-did you wanna do that?"

The laugh of the crowd. 

He slipped the elastic of his wings off his arms, snagging them over El's shoulders. A pat to his head. 

Oh. He was mocking him. Part of the act. The idiot who fell in love with a stripper. 

Erik pouted, shooting to his feet, offering El an entirely unapologetic ruffle of his hair. With a simple flick of his wrist, his shorts fell to his ankles. A sly glance over his shoulder. Halo wobbling, he kicked the fabric into the audience. 

A beat. 

_I think I did it again._

El swallowed. 

Snow white lace sat over dip of his hips, lace that hugged his curves, riding up even higher than the shorts, sitting between two perfect globes, made to be touched– and they were, the waistband already stuffed with notes from people who had. People braver than El. 

He longed to touch him, back in the safety of his room, curled in his bed– to kiss him, hold him tight. Not here, not in this place, not surrounded by these men.

_I made you believe we're more than just friends._

El bit hard at the inside of his cheek. Tears burnt his eyes. As much as he wanted to leave, unravel in the safety of a toilet cubicle, he couldn't; he couldn't risk disappointing his captor, even if it was just a game to him, if he was toying with his prey. 

_Oh baby,_

Slinking towards the pole, Erik grasped it with both gloved hands, rolling his hips back to display the subtle sparkle of his laced thong, the gentle sheen of supple skin. Skin El longed to touch. 

_Him_ in a shirt and underwear, the one thing more than anything that El wanted to wake up next to, curl around as they slept. 

He thumped down, legs spread, biting a finger as swirled his hips slowly, slowly, a charmed snake, spinning to its master's command. Though El was the one hypnotised, jaw slack, time slowing as he was consumed by Erik's spell. 

_It might seem like a crush,_

Turning back with a grin, he fell to his knees, legs splayed _helplessly_ beneath him. Two fingers crept into his mouth, tongue circling them in long, deliberate licks. His lower lip pulled down, those same digits dragged a trail of fresh body glitter down his chin, to the jewel of his choker. Glitter was slowly streaked across his chest, fingers teasing his blouse to reveal a single, rosy nipple, the same colour as those soft, sweet lips. A glittering gem poked out either side of that perfect point, catching the light. 

_But it doesn't mean that I'm serious._

He laughed when the crowd cheered, gently nudging a puffed sleeve down to fully expose his erect nipple. One quickly pulled back up with a devious grin. 

Both hands were raised with a sly pout. _Louder._

A roar from the crowd. 

_'Cause to lose all my senses,_

Shyly, he slipped the blouse down, exposing both bejewelled nipples, innocently biting a finger. He glanced away, bashful as the blouse slipped to his waist, hands darting to cover his exposed chest with a mock gasp. 

As if he'd been caught doing something shameful. 

_That is just so typically me._

Then he grinned. A devilish smile. 

Slinking to his feet, the shirt fell to the floor, quickly snatched up by one of his enthusiastic fans. He stood, bare, just a shimmering thong and two stockings from perfect nudity. 

And still El wanted to cup those cheeks with both palms, kiss a trail up his spine, have him keen into his hands, fall apart in his arms. 

_Oh, baby, baby,_

A finger beckoning. His chest seized. 

_Oops, I did it again._

His entire body shifted into Erik's space, entranced. He knew this was wrong– a doomed sailor heading straight for the rocks, Erik, a gorgeous, shimmering siren, pulling him to his perfect death. 

_I played with your heart, got lost in the game._

A leg hooked over his shoulder, wrapping around the back of his neck. Erik leant back onto the stage, hips lifting, wrapping the other leg around him in an intoxicating grip. He tugged a stocking off with ease, offering it to the crowd with the drop of his hand. 

"Kiss me," he murmured, stroking a thigh. 

_Oops, you think I'm in love,_

A hand ruffled his hair, pushing his head down. A less than angelic grin beamed down at him, halo bobbing. 

_That I'm sent from above,_

El pressed his lips to heated flesh, dam entirely broken, kissing the lace of the remaining stocking, mouth feverishly traveling up Erik's thighs. His hands sought the rough texture of fishnet, blindly tugging it away to grant him better access. 

Just them, in his room, giving his partner pleasure. Later, he'd hold him, squeeze him, sitting in the wake of their passion, Erik's head on his chest. 

Or so he kept telling himself. 

A loud sigh. A hand dragging through his hair. Another pulling up his turtleneck, stroking shimmering trails of glitter over the grooves of his abdomen, tracing down to the waistband of his boxers, seeking _more_. The hand fell away. 

He glanced up.

His wallet, in Erik's hand, the money gone. Tucked into his thong, well below the band of pure white lace. Erik pouted, carefully pushing the empty wallet down the front of El's trousers, fingers leaving a trail of heat. 

_I'm not that innocent._

"Can I keep it?" he whispered teasingly, as if he hadn't just liberated every single note from his wallet. "Can I keep _you?_ " 

El released a shaky sigh. He nodded weakly, senses finally catching up with him. His hands, on Erik's hips, touching him– holding him. 

Thighs tightened around his neck appreciatively, rewarding him with a gorgeous, suffocating warmth. 

_See my problem is this,_

Erik giggled. Biting his lip, he guided El's hand under his laced waistband. 

El's heart beat like a caged animal, boat ready to crash into the rocks. Erik's thighs nestled close to his face, his own hand about to pull him to his doom. 

Erik's thieving hand took the other side, and slowly they pulled, dragging the thong down his thighs. He gazed at El, eyes widening the slightest of bits. Vulnerable. Soft. 

_I'm dreaming away, wishing that heroes, they truly exist._

And El desperately wanted to kiss that uncertainty from his face, press his lips gently to his, show him how much he cared, how much he needed him, past one night.

But before El could even appreciate his flash of vulnerability, of _his_ Erik, or even his impending doom– 

White. 

White lace, shoved over his face. His chest rose sharply. 

_I cry, watching the days,_

Warm thighs left his neck, slinking off into the unknown, slipping through his fingers. Like he was drowning. Clinging onto a piece of wood that bobbed out of his reach, boat smashed against the rocks. 

_Can't you see I'm a fool in so many ways._

He shoved the fabric out of his eyes, gasping for breath he didn't know he lost. 

There he was, towering above him, grinning: the devil incarnate. Eyes sharp as blades. 

_But to lose all my senses,_

A bright red thong, with his money shoved in, trapped under a single, scarlet string. Danger. 

_That is just so typically me._

Slowly, Erik strutted back to the pole, gripping it tightly with one hand, barely casting him a glance. He stroked at the red thread stretched over him, adjusting the elaborate string pattern with a smirk. El gripped onto the stage, surprised the thin fabric hadn't snapped under the strain. 

_That_ could barely be called underwear. If at all. Not even a thong– nothing sitting in the middle. The back, a deeply erotic triangular cage, thin strings positioned in three openings– one large diamond framing exactly where everyone wanted to look, entirely exposed. Like an arrow, a _target_. An impossible invitation. 

El's chest ached as he effortlessly swung around the metal, a devilish whirlwind, the gorgeous swell of his curves on full display to the cheering crowd in those backless briefs. El's stomach twisted with him as he spun upside down, staring in wonder as his halo remained firmly on his head. 

_Oops, I did it again,_

_Slam._ He was back on the floor, running his tongue up the pole, back arched to show off that irresistible display: that infernal cage– one El was entirely trapped in. 

A fallen angel. Ready to corrupt. 

_I played with your heart, got lost in the game._

On his hands and knees, hips thrust up into the air, he beckoned him again with a slow, precise finger, satanic grin at his lips. And El was pulled back to him, utterly hypnotised, ready to be drowned again. 

"Closer." Erik crawled into his space, extending two eager palms. 

A man possessed, El took both hands and allowed himself to be tugged up onto the platform. On stage. Seen by everyone. A place he hated to be.

Still glitter smeared and sporting some ridiculous sparkly wings. 

But with Erik, even when he was the devil incarnate, he was _safe_. The fear, it was unlike any other, not anxiety driven, but stemming from Erik himself. It was pleasure, it was pain, being entirely at Erik's mercy as he hiked his turtleneck up his glitter streaked torso, displaying his abdomen to the whooping crowd. 

Erik gasped exaggeratedly, hand to mouth, staring at El's chest, then back at the audience, then back at his chest. 

_Oh, baby, baby._

He stroked up his chest, biting a lip as his fingers brushed El's nipple. El's breath came out in shudders, heart hammering wildly. 

Slowly, Erik walked him backwards, stalking his prey until his back hit the pole. 

El's Adam's apple bobbed. 

"Take it off." He glanced down with narrowed eyes, licking his lips. 

El swallowed harshly. 

Doomed. 

Erik was ready to deliver the killer bite: eyes sharp, lips shining. Hungry. 

Time to give in. 

_Oops, you think I'm in love,_

This was just a show. And Erik was just a far too gorgeous and unfairly persuasive man who had him in his clutches. A man who he _adored._ Even if he was about to kill him in front of a whole crowd of witnesses. 

El put his hands to his hips, thumbing the flimsy string of the waistband. 

"With your teeth," he murmured, lips wet on El's ear, hand squeezing a bicep. 

El's eyes traveled to the glittering halo swaying above his head, then the lurid vibrancy of a red triangle. _Danger._

He should've headed the obvious warning. Though, honestly, he never would. He'd do it again, and again, and again. Just to be close to him, to touch him. Be with him. 

Weak, he sank to his knees, accepting of his miserable fate. Glancing back up, he saw Erik's grin widen considerably when his teeth obediently grazed his hip bone, catching the thread in his mouth. A well trained pet.

_That I'm sent from above,_

Erik gazed back at his adoring crowd with a gleaming smile, petting El's hair in encouragement. He raised a finger, gasping, then neatly nestled his halo on El's head. 

Eyes clenched shut, El dragged his face down Erik's thigh, painstakingly avoiding his crotch as he pulled the fabric down to his knees. Something twitched against his cheek. 

Red string fell to Erik's feet. 

_I'm not that innocent._

Erik pounced onto El's lap, naked figure curling possessively over him. He grabbed El's jaw, pulling him in for a rough, passionate kiss. 

A resounding wolf whistle. 

The lights fell. 

Yet Erik still kissed him, perhaps even more feverishly, yanking at a fistful of hair like it was the only thing anchoring him to this earth. 

As if it wasn't a performance. 

El kissed him back with equal fervour, gripping at his perfect, messy blue hair with all the strength he could muster. Him, Erik had chosen _him._

And he wasn't sure why. 

But it didn't matter, not now he was kissing him, gasping into his mouth so loudly it made El wonder if he'd be suited to other jobs in the sex industry. The noises, the guttural groans, the stifled moans, they were _filthy,_ sounds he desperately needed to hear more of, preferably in the comfort of his own dorm. He could apologise to his flatmates later, he reasoned. Bake them a cake in the shitty combi oven.

Anything to wake up next to him. 

Erik laughed, glitter smeared up his face, drawing back just enough to breath against his lips. "I got you somethin'." 

El groaned as his collar was ripped down, eager teeth sinking into his neck, marking his newly claimed property. 

"Do you remember me?" he asked shakily, wincing as he was unable to stop himself from voicing his insecurities. "From, y'know…" 

_Dammit_ , not now. Not when he had an impossible chance with the gorgeous boy he loved. Who is, somehow, an incredibly sexy stripper. 

Erik pouted, releasing an audible _aww._ "Of course I remember you, silly." He booped his nose lightly. "You're Elli, that sexy boy from my seminar. Y'know, it's hard to concentrate when you look that good."

"O-Oh, I see."

His face scorched hotter than the sun. 

That was good… Or was it? 

It meant that he'd definitely been teasing him earlier. 

Playing a game? 

Was that something adults did? 

Erik hummed, pressing lips to El's cheek. "Thank you for being so good, angel. Oh, and one more thing…" 

El's breath froze as two words were spoken into the shell of his ear. 

Laughing, Erik lifted his lips from El's skin. Then his body from El's, untangling himself from their heated embrace. 

"Later, baby," he cooed, grin teetering at the edge of his lips. He offered a sly lift of his hand, then slinked off into murky, purple light. 

El collapsed against the pole, panting. Holding a pulsing finger to the mark on his neck, he stared off into the darkness, two words hanging over his head. 

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all: _but I love you isn't two words?_
> 
> Me: >:) 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing this! I've kinda thought about places I could take this beyond a one shot, so maybe?? Hmmmmmmst ;) 
> 
> Happy birthday Nedryn, peace out <3


End file.
